


Jailbait

by nic



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-02
Updated: 2001-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 09:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic/pseuds/nic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason for the word "jailbait".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jailbait

## Jailbait

by Jedi Nic

[]()

* * *

Jailbait  
By Jedi Nic (JediNic@bigfoot.com)  
2 December 2001. 

Disclaimer: "Smallville" and the characters mentioned within are not my property. 

Jailbait. 

He was pushed roughly from behind and he stumbled, before an even harder shove sent him sprawling onto the stone floor. Placing his hands out did little to stop the fall and as his face grazed a jagged edge, he realised, almost remotely, that the flawless look he tried so hard to perfect would now be marred. 

Then again, his reputation had been completely destroyed by all of this, so it wouldn't matter much what he looked like. Chances were he'd never show his face in Smallville again. 

The clang of the door slamming shut jolted him into movement, and he pulled himself up from the floor, standing tall, attempting to wipe the specks of blood from his suit but realising that the material was ruined forever. It was a shame, really, because he'd loved this shade of grey. To import a similar version - well, that took time, not to mention power, and he didn't know exactly how much power he'd have left after this. Of course his father could pull strings, and he'd have the best lawyers available, but added to the whole Club Zero mess.... 

Lex suddenly shivered. 

"Hope you fry in hell," was the officer's parting shot as he turned the key in the lock and stalked away. 

"Such eloquence," Lex muttered to himself, wishing he dared to say the words louder. But he'd earned quite a few bruises in the past few hours and had no desire for more. Here in Smallville's tiny jail cell, there was no one to protect him. No mighty Lionel Luthor feeding bribes into the pockets of the guards. No guards either. No one to threaten, or to sweet talk into a safer deal. This place was populated with a mere few men who were the epitome of small-minded, gun-toting rednecks. There was no dealing with them. 

His gaze wandered around the tiny cell. Dust, to be expected, of course, along with a spider web or two that looked far too fresh for Lex's comfort. Beyond that, nothing, not even a chair or a window. 

At least he was alone. Lex didn't know if he'd be able to stand the indignity of sharing a cell with the more common criminal, however, he realised, anyone arrested in Smallville was hardly normal. Lex himself included. He unconsciously ran a hand over his head as he contemplated the various benefits of standing versus sitting. Standing gave him power, strength, especially when the officers came to visit. Then again, he expected to be alone in here for quite a while. Small towns often had their own sense of punishment, and while he was entitled to one phone call, he knew that would be a long time coming. 

To sit, then. It would destroy his suit further but it would give his aching legs some relief. He'd never run so fast or so hard in his life, and the asthma attack at the other end was only to be expected. And the asthma had been far preferable to having his head blown off with a shotgun. 

He closed his eyes, sank against the wall. Trying not to remember, but the images were the only thing he could see in endless rerun. The frantic escape, the race to his castle (because where else could he go?), taking a shower, the careful choosing of his suit, and then sitting down to await the knock at the door. Because of course they knew it was him, he'd left his car parked out the front for all the world to see, and to run would only make it worse. Not to mention the fact that running would only cause more hurt in the long run..... 

"Lex, you're a complete and utter fool." Saying it aloud seemed to make it more real and he wondered what had come over him. He could have run, been out of the state within half an hour, out of the country in only a little more time than that. But no, he'd stayed, accepting his fate and now, he couldn't think of a single good reason why. When his father found out, there'd be humiliation on scales that even his worst nightmares couldn't match. Smallville was supposed to teach him to be ruthless, to learn how to win, not how to do something really stupid and end up in jail. 

Something skittered across his foot and his eyes flew open, but there was nothing there. Nonetheless, he drew his knees up to his chest, almost hugging them, and reflecting on the pitiful thing he'd become. 

He wasn't supposed to be pitiful. He wasn't supposed to be here. 

But he'd done it, and he was, and maybe he deserved it. Because when you came down to it, when you cut away the outrage and the sense of anger, betrayal, shock, and even if you pushed aside the bigotry of the locals, the awful truth was that he'd broken the law. And not just a little bit, but in a way that was hard to dispute, as Jonathan Kent had been there, he had _seen_ every horrible (but wonderful) moment right at the end before it all fell apart. 

The memories flashed before him again and Lex grimaced, because he didn't want to remember. Not the beguiling smile, not the innocent touch, not the whispered words that he wanted this and he didn't care about the fact that he was a minor whereas Lex himself most definitely was not. 

And Lex knew it was his own fault, because _he_ was the one who'd flirted with Clark from day one, _he_ was the one who'd sought Clark out time after time, _he_ was the one who'd made sure there'd be ample time to get to know each other. Now they knew each other in the most carnal sense, and now they'd never know each other again. 

Clark had been kissing him with in an adorable frenzy, and Lex didn't know how he could be so turned on, and so amused, at the same time. The thought didn't stop him kissing back with equal passion, deeper, stronger, until they were both breathless and half crazy with lust. Yet it was more than lust, Lex couldn't yet put a name to the feeling, but this was something special, Clark was something special, Clark was...pushing him back into the hay with a surprising strength. 

"We should stop," Lex half-protested. Clark only managed a little grunt which could be interpreted as a "no" as he continued kissing Lex's neck. "Clark, this is your parents' barn-" 

"They won't be back for hours," Clark insisted, and Lex was powerless to halt the seduction. 

Unfortunately, Clark had been wrong. 

Lex would hear the sound of the shotgun in his nightmares for years. Academically, he knew that Mr. Kent wouldn't have shot him, at least not while he was wrapped around Jonathan's own son, but to have moments of ecstasy turned into moments of horror, fear, shame as the shouting began and he scrambled for his pants and Clark was yelling, "Dad, stop!" but it didn't stop Jonathan firing off another few shots while continuing his tirade - it was more than enough to permanantly scar a man. 

"I am so sorry." 

Lex lifted his head in shock, the words sounded as if they were right there, in the room with him, Clark's sweet voice haunting him from a distance. Only it wasn't his imagination, Clark was actually there, outside the bars, pressing his hands against them and Lex was sure he could see traces of tears on Clark's cheeks. 

"What are you doing here?" Lex hissed. "Does your father know? No, of course he wouldn't, he's not going to let you within a hundred miles of me ever again." 

Clark glanced up the hall, his eyes large and worried. "I, um, I snuck in. I _had_ to see you, Lex. I want you to know how sorry I am, it was completely my fault." 

Shrugging, Lex said, "It takes two to do that dance." 

"Yes, but you tried to tell me that we should stop, and I didn't listen. This is all my fault." 

A pause. 

"I - I love you." It was barely whispered, but Lex heard it, and he sent Clark the iciest glare he could muster. It wasn't true, it was Clark feeling remorse, coupled with the loss of his virginity, a state of heightened emotion where the only reaction could be a declaration of love. 

"Go away, Clark," Lex said, forcing his tone to be weary, as if he were tired of the whole thing. 

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Clark pressed even closer to the bars, if that was possible, it almost looked as if he were bending them with the sheer desire to get closer to Lex. There was such an expression of hope on his face and Lex hated to be the one to destroy it, but it was the only thing he could do. No sense in getting them both dragged through the courts, subjected to uncomfortable questioning as to what the 'illegal acts' had actually entailed. It would be even worse if Clark described it with a sense of wonder. 

"I've heard it before," managed Lex, "and you don't mean it. Lana's the one you love, remember?" 

Clark shook his head emphatically. "No. I don't love her, _you_ taught me that, Lex. You showed me how to get closer to her, but when I could, I realised that she was just - just - " 

"A fantasy?" Lex finished. "Something that would be fun for a while, just once, perhaps, and then you push it aside?" 

"No!" 

"Clark, go home," and Lex deliberately stared at the floor, not wanting to see those eyes one second longer. Not wanting to see them wrought with desperation, because it reminded him too harshly of how Clark had looked earlier, that sense of ragged wonder and something else he couldn't identify. "You're going to hear this a lot during the next few weeks, so let me be the first one to tell you. Big bad Lex Luthor tricked you, tried to seduce you, and then raped you. You're lucky that your father came home in time to stop him, and Mr. Luthor is going to be locked away for a very long time so that he can't prey on young boys ever again." He raised his foot and smashed down hard on the roach that was crawling in front of him. "I think that about covers it." 

"But it's not true," and again, there was that haunting innocence in Clark's words, the belief that the truth would always win out because that was what was _right_. "Lex, I've never met anyone like you before. You were my first kiss!" 

That caused Lex to glance up, and yes, Clark was blushing. But his next words were far more astute. "Why are you trying to protect me?" 

And the question gave Lex pause. Why indeed, when his whole life so far had been focussed on Lex and nothing else? 

"Because you saved my life?" 

Neither of them believed it. 

Lex warily got to his feet, but kept his distance. Getting closer to Clark would only do terrible things to his mind - not to mention certain parts of his anatomy - and the last thing he needed was that. "Clark, you have your whole life ahead of you. More than that, people around here need you even though they don't know it yet." 

"What about your life?" 

Lex managed a lazy laugh, one of his trademarks when cutting a business deal. "I've already lived." It was true, almost, he'd never felt more alive than he had these past few months when Clark had come crashing into his world. 

"Then what about _our_ life?" Again, that continuing hope and this time Lex didn't have the heart (heart?) to laugh. "I swear, Lex, if I could fly, I'd get us both out of here. We'd fly away to somewhere that no one could ever find us. You said you wanted to fly, didn't you?" He was pleading now, and Lex was drawn closer, his hand reaching out and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't stop it. Clark's fingers grasped his and the touch was warm, _alive_ , so different from the aching emptiness he'd been trying to ignore that spoke of a life without Clark around at all. 

"I did fly," Lex whispered. Only now could he voice the truth that he'd been afraid to say. "I flew when you brought me back to life." When you kissed me. 

And it was as if Clark was reading his mind, because now his other hand was caught and Lex was being drawn closer to that earnest figure who wanted so desperately to reach him. "I will get you out of this," Clark vowed. 

Looking into those dark eyes, Lex was helpless to disagree. 

A sound from the darkened hall startled them both, and from the expression on Clark's face, Lex knew that he was worried about being caught. "Go," Lex said, not wanting Clark to leave, knowing that he had to. 

Indecision crossed the boy's face, and then he tugged, so that Lex, too, was pressed against the bars. Clark caressed his cheek, sighing with dismay as his fingers grazed the raw wound, before brushing his lips against Lex's in the gentlest of kisses. "Remember that, Lex. Remember _us_." And before Lex had time to blink, Clark was gone. 

He touched the bars; they were still warm with Clark's heat. A door slammed, and Lex heard the officers from a distance; of course they wouldn't be down to check on him for quite a while. 

"You can't love me," Lex said to the empty room, and wished that it were true. And in the same breath, wished that Clark really could fly and that there'd be a happy ending for both of them. 

* * *

End. 


End file.
